


Better late than never

by thewolvescalledmehome



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, Miscommunication, lil bit of angst, not admitting feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-09 17:36:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15272724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewolvescalledmehome/pseuds/thewolvescalledmehome
Summary: Jon and Sansa go to school together, and both develop crushes but they're idiots and never tell each other.





	Better late than never

 

**Seventh Grade**

The first time he saw her he was in middle school. She had just moved in across the street. He’d seen her several times over the summer from a distance, but didn’t actually meet her until the first day of school, at the bus stop.

He was drudging up the courage to introduce himself—surely she would like a friend for her first day at a new school? Just as he stepped forward, clutching his backpack straps, a force of wind knocked him sideways.

“I can’t believe you’re here!” the force squealed, throwing their arms around the redhead. “I can’t believe we’ll finally be going to the same school! And the same bus route! Let me see your schedule.”

Jon stepped back, away from the two girls. Clearly she didn’t need him to show her around for the first day, when she already had Margaery Tyrell as a best friend.

* * *

Over the course of the year, Jon learned her name: Sansa Stark; that she was in the same grade as him; that she was in orchestra—he wasn’t sure what she played though, only that she had a case she carried home with her on the bus some days, and he learned that she was one of those girls that effortlessly became popular.

Not just because of who she was friends with, or how she looked, but because she was kind. She helped everyone. She tutored her peers, she volunteered at the elementary school, and she always bought herself too big of a lunch, but instead of throwing it away, she offered it to people.

That was how he first actually met her.

Jon was sitting a table away from her, his math homework spread out across the table and a carton of milk next to his elbow.

He kept glancing her away, unable not to.

They’d never spoken, but he felt some kind of magnetic pull towards her. He couldn’t explain it. It wasn’t just her smile, or her laugh, or her kind blue eyes. It was so much more.

Jon hadn’t realized he was staring until Sansa looked at him. His face flared red and he quickly looked back down at him math homework.

He heard the chair across from him scrap back and butterflies bombarded his stomach.

“Hi.”

“Um, hi,” he muttered.

“I’m Sansa.”

“Jon.”

“I, um. I bought too much lunch and can’t eat it all. None of my friends want it either. Do you want it? It’d be a waste to throw it out.”

“If it’s just going to go to waste anyway…” he shrugged, trying not to feel embarrassed but also wondering how closely she’d been watching him.

He hadn’t had lunch money for a few days now and had been sticking to just getting milk because finding a quarter hadn’t been that hard.

“Thanks,” he added, when she passed him her lunch tray.

“No problem. I always buy too much. I’m so hungry by the time lunch starts and I forget how fast I get full.”

Jon opened his mouth to say something, anything to keep her there longer, but the bell rang.

“See you around, Jon,” she said, rising and going back to her table to join her friends.

He and Sansa quickly fell into a routine—on the days he didn’t have lunch money, which was starting to become more frequently than it ever had been, she offered him whatever she didn’t eat.

They were still just friends in passing, having polite conversation at the bus stop and during lunch but nothing more. It wasn’t real friendship, but it was more than they’d been at the start of the year.

* * *

The last week of school, Jon was trying to figure out how to ask her to come to his birthday party. His mom promised to take him and some of his friends paintballing. He was sure that wasn’t really Sansa’s thing, but he wanted to ask her—it’d be a guarantee that he’d see her over the summer, and not just in passing.

He waited until the last lunch period of the year, when she inevitably came over with her extra food.

“The fries are actually decent today. Of course,” she joked, rolling her eyes.

“Hey, I wanted to ask you something,” he blurted.

“What’s up?”

“My birthday’s in a few weeks and me and some friends are going paintballing. I dunno if that’s your thing, or if you’d want to come, but…” He trailed off, noting how her eyebrow had risen.

“Yeah, yeah, that sounds cool. I’ll have to ask my parents though.”

“Oh, right, of course. Um…”

“Here.” She handed him her yearbook. “Put your number in and I’ll call you and let you know.”

“Okay.” He flipped it open, immediately seeing all the notes and signatures that had already filled it. Squished in the corner, he wrote HAVE A GREAT SUMMER –JON SNOW and his number.

“I can sign yours too, if you wanted?” she offered, cradling her yearbook in her arms.

“I, um, didn’t get one.”

“Oh, okay. So I’ll call you when I talk to my parents. See you on the bus,” she waved, heading back to her table.

* * *

It was a week later when the landline rang and Jon raced through the house to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Hi, I’m was hoping to talk to Jon?”

“This is Jon.”

“Hi, Jon. It’s Sansa.” He’d hoped it was her but his heart still jumped.

“Hi, Sansa.”

“Hey, so I talked to my parents about the whole paintballing thing, but they said no. You know, they’ve never met you or your parents…”

“Oh, right. Of course.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. I understand.”

“Okay, well… Have a good summer.”

“Yeah, thanks, you too.”

* * *

**Eighth Grade**

Jon didn’t see Sansa except for in passing all summer. One the first day of school, he’d been hoping to see her at the bus stop but he didn’t. He didn’t see her until lunch.

“Jon! Hi!” she called from the same table she’d sat at last year. “Come sit with me!” Grinning, he walked over at sat next to her. “I’m so glad to see you. No one else I know has this lunch hour. I was so scared I was going to be alone.”

Jon glanced around, realizing he didn’t see any of her friends he remembered her sitting with last year.

“So how was your summer? I didn’t see you around the neighborhood much,” she asked, pushing her lunch between them so that they could share.

* * *

It was before Christmas break that Sansa sat across from him, bouncing in her chair with excitement.

“What’s got you all excited?” he asked, breaking off a piece of the brownie they were serving as dessert.

“I just got asked out,” she squealed.

“Oh, that’s great,” he managed. “Who?”

“Joffery!”

“I didn’t realize you liked Joffery.” Not that they talked about that kind of thing. They mostly just talked about their classes, and sometimes about her siblings.

“He’s _Joffery._ Everyone likes him.” Jon’s eyebrow lifted before he could control his face. “What?” she asked immediately. “Is there something I should know?”

 _Yeah, I like you,_ he thought, but he couldn’t force the words out. She looked so excited about Joffery; he didn’t want to cause her any doubt or confusion.

She had a boyfriend now.

“He’s can kind of be a dick,” he admitted honestly.

“I haven’t see that at all,” she said softly.

“Oh, well, maybe he’s changed. That was a while ago.” That was true—the one interaction he’d had with Joffery was in sixth grade. He very well may have changed since then.

“So you approve?” she asked, the large grin back on her face.

“If you’re happy,” he shrugged.

“I am,” she giggled and Jon found himself smiling back.

-

“Damn, it’s cold. We should’ve waited inside,” Margaery complained, pulling her scarf higher on her face. Sansa agreed, her teeth all but chattering.

“How’d your finals go?” Sansa asked.

“Good. I’m just glad they’re over. I’m excited for next semester. I have home ec instead of tech ed. It’s so stupid they make you take both. I just wanted to learn how to cook something, not how to build a bridge.”

“You could’ve always taken orchestra with me,” Sansa joked, nudging Margaery with her violin case.

“Yeah, right,” Margaery laughed.

A group of girls walked passed them then, most wearing leather or jean jackets, as opposed to full winter ones that Sansa and Margaery were wearing. Sansa watched them walk past, wondering if any of them were cold.

“Oh, hey, what’s your friend’s name again? The one you have lunch with?” Margaery asked as they waited for her older brother Loras to pick them up.

“Jon?”

“Yeah, that one. I heard he got head in the back stairwell.”

Sansa’s whole body flushed at the ease of which Margaery said _got head._ Sansa had only recently learned what the euphemism meant—how could Margaery say it so easily in public?

“Wait, what?” she asked once Margaery’s words had sunk it. “Jon? My Jon?”

“Yeah, Jon Snow, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, I heard he got head in the back stairwell,” Margaery repeated.

“No way.”

“I’m just repeating what I heard. But you know he’s runs with a bad crowd, right?”

“What’re you talking about?” Sansa snapped. She and Jon were friends. She wasn’t a bad crowd.

“I know you have lunch with him, but I mean he hangs out with Grenn and Pyp and all those guys that live downtown.”

“Okay, but Jon lives in _our_ neighborhood,” Sansa reminded. They’d all been at the same bus stop until Loras got his license and Margaery talked him into driving them.

“You didn’t see it?”

“See what?” Sansa asked, getting irritated by this conversation.

Jon wouldn’t _get head_ in the back stairwell. Jon wasn’t like that. He wasn’t like those other boys he hung out with.

“The for sale sign. They’re moving.”

“What?”

“Yeah, my dad’s the head of the HOA and I overheard him talking to someone. Apparently his mom fell behind on a payment or something? I dunno, but it sounded like they can’t afford the neighborhood anymore,” Margaery shrugged.

Sansa didn’t know what to say. She thought she and Jon were friends. She couldn’t believe he didn’t tell her any of this. She couldn’t believe how hurt she was by the fact he didn’t tell her.

“He didn’t say anything to you?” Margaery asked.

“No,” she admitted quietly.

“Maybe he’s embarrassed?”

“Yeah, maybe.”

Sansa barely listened to anything else Margaery said until she was dropped off at home. All she could think about was Jon _getting head_ and the for sale sign.

She decided she’d ask him on Monday at lunch about the sign. She didn’t care about the other thing. She didn’t believe the other thing.

Sansa didn’t get the chance to ask Jon on Monday. It was the start of the new semester, and her schedule got switched around, which meant she and Jon no longer shared a lunch hour. Which meant she didn’t see him at all, now that she wasn’t riding the bus.

* * *

**Ninth Grade**

Jon and his mom moved to an apartment downtown just before he started high school. He would’ve been sad about moving out of the same neighborhood as Sansa, but he hadn’t seen her since first semester. He figured she must’ve gotten a schedule change and switched to another lunch, which meant he only ever saw her in passing on occasion.

When high school started, Jon half hoped that they’d have some classes, or at least lunch together, but aside from the first day when all the freshmen were assembled in the gym for orientation, he never saw her.

He tried to forget about her instead.

* * *

**Tenth Grade**

Sansa saw Jon once her sophomore year. It was at the Homecoming dance. He was dancing with a redheaded upperclassman. Sansa was dancing with Joffery. She thought about asking him for a dance to talk to him, but she knew how Joffery would feel about that. So she didn’t. She watched him dance, and wondered about what might’ve been, if things had worked out differently.

* * *

**Eleventh Grade**

Joffery broke up with Sansa during the first week of her junior year. She knew she should be upset, but she really wasn’t. Jon had been right in eighth grade. He was a dick.

She still didn’t see Jon ever, so she couldn’t tell him, though she was sure he’d hear about it. They travelled in different circles, but Joffery and her breaking up would doubtless reach all circles of their high school.

She did hear about Jon, occasionally—more than she had the previous years—because her little sister Arya happened to be in the same art metals class and apparently they’d become friends.

“Heard about you and the asshole,” Arya said as she plunked down into Sansa’s car.

“That got around fast,” Sansa muttered, starting the car.

“I gave Jon your number, by the way.”

“You what?”

“You were friends with him in middle school, right?”

“I mean, yeah…”

“So it’s not a big deal.”

Sansa didn’t want to admit that it was. She had long forgotten about the crush she’d had on him back in middle school, but suddenly she felt butterflies.

Sansa tried not to spend the rest of the afternoon and the night watching her phone, waiting for a text from an unknown number to pop up.

It wasn’t until she was going to bed at ten o’clock that her phone lit up.

**Sorry to hear about you and Joffery. It’s Jon, by the way. Arya gave me your number. I hope that’s okay.**

_It’s fine. And it’s okay. You were right. He’s a dick._

**Still. Sorry.**

_Thanks. So… what have you been up to?_

**Just school. What about you?**

Sansa stayed up far later than she should have, texting with Jon, enough so that Margaery commented on her appearance. Sansa let her assume that she’d been up late crying. She didn’t want to explain that she’d been up until one AM texting with Jon.

After that night, Sansa thought that maybe her and Jon would go back to being friends, or whatever it had been that they were back in middle school, but she didn’t hear from him at all the next day, or the day after.

* * *

It was weeks before she heard from him again, because she was too nervous to text him herself.

Her phone buzzed at quarter to two in the morning, the night of the Homecoming dance.

**You looked pretty in your dress.**

_Aw, thanks. You looked nice, too._

**Did you have a date?**

_No, I went with friends. What about you?_

**No, I was alone.**

_Did you have fun, at least?_

**As much fun as I ever have at those things.**

_Yeah, Margaery always drags me. I’d rather be home._

Again, Sansa stayed up far too late texting Jon—this time she was up until five.

And again, Sansa didn’t hear from him again for weeks.

* * *

This went on for the remainder of the semester. Sansa found herself staying up late on weekends, hoping to hear from him.

She quickly realized that Jon didn’t text her randomly. She recognized a pattern in the times he texted her, and the rumors she heard at school on Monday.

It was always during the weekend. It was always at night. And she always heard rumors about a party in the downtown apartments on Monday.

He only ever texted her when he was drinking at a party.

After Sansa realized this, three months into the school year, she decided to confront him about it.

It was a Friday night, and she had heard rumors of a party happening in the apartments.

If she were brave, she would drag Margaery down there and crash the party and confront him in person. That’s what Margaery would do. Instead, she waited up until two o’clock when her phone buzzed.

**Are you still awake?**

_Yeah. What’s up?_

**Nothing. Just bored.**

_Yeah? Just sitting at home, bored?_

**No, I’m at Grenn’s party.**

Sansa sat up and took a deep breath before she started typing out her real question.

_Do you only ever text me when you’re at a party?_

Typically Jon texted her back fairly quickly. But she waited almost seven minutes before her phone buzzed again.

**How’d you know?**

_Why do you only ever text me when you’re at a party?_

**Liquid courage?**

_Funny, Jon._

**Because I’m terrified of you, Sansa.**

_Terrified of me? Why?_

Again, Sansa had to wait for a response. She worried at her thumbnail, wondering what he’d say. Why he’d be _terrified_ of her.

**You’re too good for me. I’m terrified of liking you too much. So I only text you when I’m drunk because I don’t have any self control.**

_You like me?_

Sansa’s grin was stretched so far across her face that it hurt. Jon liked her.

**Actively trying not to.**

Her grin should’ve dropped, but it somehow stayed in place. She had butterflies like Joffery never gave her.

**Sorry. You don’t need to know any of this. I’m keeping you awake, aren’t I?**

_No, it’s okay._

**Good, because I like talking to you.**

_I like talking to you too._

* * *

Sansa spent half her weekends staying up late texting Jon, but she still rarely saw him in person.

That was until second semester.

She was taking her final PE class, and apparently, so was Jon.

She’d never shared a class with him before, so seeing him in the bleachers the first day had been surprising.

“Sansa!” Margaery called from her place high in the bleachers.

She’d been watching Jon, so she saw him find her in the crowd. She waved hesitantly at him before climbing up to join Margaery.

“You and Jon friends again?”

“We text sometimes,” Sansa shrugged.

“You ever find out if he ever actually got head back in eighth grade?”

“No!”

“No, he didn’t, or…”

“Seven hells, Margaery. I have no idea.”

* * *

Jon had thought and Sansa would see more of each other given that they were in PE together, but they never signed up for the same unit. Sansa repeatedly signed up for volleyball, while he kept taking swimming because it was relaxing and the only thing they required him to do to get participation points was get his hair wet.

That was fine though, because he didn’t know how to talk to her in person. He hadn’t since they were in eighth grade. He just like that he now had the opportunity to smile and wave at her as they left class every day. That was enough.

* * *

The PE class didn’t offer a unit of swimming for the last six weeks, so Jon signed up for badminton, thinking it would be easy. He didn’t realize that volleyball wasn’t being offered either, so Sansa had also signed up for badminton.

Thankfully, Margaery had too, so he only interacted with Sansa once they moved from singles to doubles.

Jon still rarely talked to Sansa in person, aside from simple greetings, but she smiled at him from across the net or laughed when he caught a wild birdie.

Between that and texting her sometimes, that was enough. The smiles, the giggling, the late night texting that was all he needed from her. He didn’t need anything else. He didn’t want anything else from her.

He was happy.

Until he wasn’t.

Jon woke up one morning to a quiet apartment. Their apartment was usually quiet, but there was something different, something off, that morning.

Instead of jumping in shower right away like he normally would, he ran for the kitchen. There was something wrong. He could feel it.

“Mom?” he called, looking for a note, a clue, anything. “Mom?”

There was radio silence.

He rushed through the rest of the apartment, thinking she might be asleep still.

She wasn’t, but there was a note on her bed.

_I needed to get away for a few days. I’ll be back by next Monday. There’s some money in the menu drawer. Love, Mom._

“Shit,” he whispered, trying to push down the tears and emotions he was feeling. “Shit.”

* * *

Sansa could tell there was something off about Jon from the moment PE started.

He looked wrecked, with bloodshot eyes, purple triangles, and a scowl like she’d never seen on him.

“I’m going to play with Jon today,” she told Margaery as they lined up to get their rackets. Sansa saw the glance Margaery gave Jon.

“Yeah, okay.”

Sansa picked up a racket and a birdie before heading over towards Jon.

“Margaery’s playing with Elinor today. Can I play with you?”

“Oh. Um. Yeah. Okay. Sure.”

They snagged the end court, farthest from the teacher, and Sansa served the birdie first.

“What’s up with you?” she asked after she hit it.

“What’d you mean?”

“You’re quiet.”

“’M tired,” he shrugged, volleying it back.

“Is that all?”

“Mhmm.”

“Are you sure?”

Suddenly Sansa saw Jon’s shoulder’s drop. She ducked under the net and joined him before she knew what she was doing.

“What’s wrong?” she asked softly.

“My mom left.”

“What?” she gasped.

“My mom left. I mean, she left a note, said she’d be back next week. But she still left, y’know?”

“Jon, I’m… I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

Sansa wanted to hug him. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and squeeze him and never let go, but they were barely friends. He only ever texted her when he was drunk. So she didn’t.

“It’s okay. I’ll probably just crash on Sam’s couch for a few days. It’ll be fine.”

“Well… text me if you need anything,” she offered, thinking it was better than nothing.

“Okay. Thanks.”

* * *

Jon did text Sansa, but not in the way she meant. They continued on with their routine of him texting her when he was drunk and lost self-control.

* * *

**Senior Year**

Jon’s texting had gotten less frequent over the summer, but part of Sansa wondered if that was a good thing, if it meant that he wasn’t partying as often.

By the time senior year started, Sansa rarely heard from Jon at all. She hoped that meant he was doing better.

* * *

Sansa had a crush, not on Jon, but on Willas, Margaery’s cousin, who was in their grade. She was letting Margaery drag her to Homecoming, only because she swore that Willas would be there.

He was. With a date.

Margaery said they were just friends, but Sansa didn’t feel comfortable intruding regardless, so she didn’t ask him to dance at all.

“I think I see Jon!” she called to Margaery, who was dancing beside her. “I’m going to go ask him to dance!”

“There’s only ten minutes left!”

“So?”

Sansa dodged around dancing couples until she found Jon alone on the fringes.

“Come dance with me!” she yelled, grabbing his hand and pulling him back towards where Margaery and Willas were dancing.

Jon wrapped his hands around her waist, and Sansa felt a tremor run through her at his touch, but she wrote that off as nothing but the adrenaline and the warmth of his hands.

They danced the last handful of songs together, until the last song, a slow song, came on.

“So, uh…” Jon mumbled before Sansa wound her arms around his shoulders.

They swayed slowly, partially to the music, not talking.

At the end of the song, the lights came on and Jon dropped his arms from her waist.

“So, um. See you around?” Jon asked her, stepping back.

“I… Yeah. Yeah, I’ll see you around,” she muttered, turning to find Margaery.

* * *

Sansa had been home from the dance for half an hour when her phone buzzed.

**I’m glad you asked me to dance.**

Sansa smiled, but her gut twisted. She’d asked him to dance to try to make Willas jealous.

 _Me too,_ she responded, even though it hadn’t had quite the desired effect.

Jon didn’t respond for over half an hour, so Sansa set her phone on her nightstand and went to wash all of the hairspray from her hair and remove her makeup.

When she got back to her room, she checked her phone.

**I should’ve kissed you.**

Sansa stared at it, shocked at the grin curling over her lips, at the butterflies filling her stomach, and at the hum filling her body.

_Why didn’t you?_

**Cause I’m an idiot.**

Sansa giggled.

She stayed up late again, for the first time in a while, texting Jon.

* * *

Jon was going to ask Sansa to the prom, he decided.

It was still two months out, but he knew a lot of her friends were already getting asked, so he figured he’d better hurry up and do it, before someone else did.

The only problem was finding time. They didn’t share any classes together this year again, so he rarely saw her. And he really didn’t want to ask her over text, not when Margaery was asked by a guy bringing a horse onto campus and pretending to be a knight in shining armor.

After several days of brainstorming and not being able to come up with anything, Jon finally decided to ask Sam for help.

“I need ideas on how to ask someone to prom,” he said, sitting down next to Sam at lunch.

“Who’re you going to ask?”

“Sansa Stark.”

“Didn’t you hear?”

“Hear what?”

“Theon Greyjoy is asking her.”

“What?”

“Yeah, he’s going to sing a song or something in her English class.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. I think it’s doing it tomorrow.”

* * *

“What’s Theon doing in here?” Sansa whispered to Jeyne. Jeyne shrugged.

“Do-da-do-do, do-da-do-do,” Theon started, strumming an air guitar, staring at her.

“Oh gods,” Sansa whispered, covering her mouth with her hand, as Theon stood in front of her whole class and sang.

“So… Sansa, will you go to prom with me?” Theon asked once the song finished.

“Of course,” she answered, jumping out of her seat to hug him.

“You guys are so cute,” Jeyne whispered once Theon left and Sansa sat back down.

“Oh, no. We’re not together. We’re just going as friends. I told him to ask me,” Sansa explained. “I didn’t want to go to prom alone.”

“Oh… well, it’s still a cute way of asking.”

“Yeah, it was.”

* * *

Sansa only saw Jon in passing during prom. She saw him once, with a blonde, dancing off to the side. She waved, but he must not have seen her, because he didn’t wave back.

* * *

**Five-Year Reunion**

Jon didn’t want to go to his first high school reunion. He’d left that all behind. He wasn’t in contact with anyone from his graduating class—he hadn’t been since his second year of college.

The only reason he was going was because Arya was making him.

“It’s a chance to change their perception of you,” she said, sitting across from him at a diner. She’d come home from her third year of college for the summer and insisted that they get lunch. She was the only person he still talked to from high school, even though she was two years younger.

“But I don’t care how they perceive me,” he reminded her.

“Okay, but you and I both know that no one really expected you to do much.”

“Oh, thanks, Arya.”

“Well, it’s true! But you have a degree, and a job, and an apartment.”

“What, so I can rub it in all their faces that I did the exact same thing they all did?”

“Well, I know for a fact some of them haven’t graduated yet, and some don’t have jobs.”

Jon stared at her, until she sighed and rolled her eyes.

“All right, fine. My sister’s going to be there.”

Jon sighed, pushing ketchup around his plate with a fry.

“I told you, I don’t have feelings for her anymore.”

“Yeah, sure, okay. Then going shouldn’t be a big deal. If you’re not worried about seeing her.”

“Arya, I’m serious.”

“Fine. If you don’t have feelings for her, then it wouldn’t interest you to know that she’s going.”

“No, it wouldn’t.”

“She’s not dating anyone right now.”

“Arya…”

“Fine, I’ll shut up. But you should go.”

Jon rubbed his hand over his face, nerves already twisting in his stomach over what he knew he would inevitably end up doing.

“I’ll think about it. Happy?”

Arya smirked back at him, and took a large bite of her burger.

* * *

Sansa was worried about what to wear. She knew it was ridiculous, given that it was just her five-year reunion, but she wanted to look nice.

She had thought about jeans with a nice top, but then she wasn’t sure if she should go for something more clubby or interview-y. Should she look professional or should she look hot?

Eventually, she landed on a dress that she thought conveyed both. It was the dress she’d worn to graduation last year: black, cocktail length, halter neck. She’d bought it at her mom’s insistence that it would fit every occasion. Then she’d rolled her eyes, but now she realized her mom had been right.

Sansa slid on her heels and rushed out the door, wondering who all she’d see from high school at the reunion.

* * *

Half an hour was all Jon promised Arya. He’d go for half an hour, and then he was free to go home.

Jon was trying really hard not to hope that Sansa would be there during that half hour.

* * *

Jon only had five minutes left before he could leave, and he couldn’t help but watch the door. He took another sip of his warm beer, starting to regret coming at all.

When he finished his beer, he dropped it in the recycling bin near the doors.

“Hey, heading out, man?” someone he must’ve went graduated with asked, patting him on the back.

“Yup.”

“Good seein’ you.”

“Yeah, you too.”

Jon took the steps quickly, hands in his pockets. He was looking down, not wanting to see the lockers that still needed painting, or how nothing at all had changed since he graduated.

“Jon? Are you leaving?” a voice asked. His head snapped up.

Sansa was coming up the steps in front of him.

“Oh, um. Yeah. I was.”

“Is it lame?” she asked, scrunching up her nose.

“I don’t remember any of those people,” he admitted.

“Oh, shit. I didn’t even think of that. I should’ve planned to come with a group.”

“You’re here alone?” Sansa shrugged. Jon took a deep breath. “Wanna get out of here?” he asked, shoving his hands deeper in his pockets. He felt Sansa studying him but he couldn’t meet her eyes.

“Yeah, okay. Let’s go.”

-

Her five-year reunion did not turn out the way she expected it to. Mostly because she never actually went. Instead, she got in Jon’s car and went to a bar with him.

“Wanna do shots?” she asked as soon as they got a table.

“Shots?”

“Yeah. It’s our five-year reunion.”

“All right, sure.”

-

Two rounds of shots and a beer each later, Sansa finally had enough courage to ask the question that had been on her mind since high school.

“How come you never asked me out?”

“What?”

“In high school. How come we never went out?”

“I was a coward?” Jon offered, shrugging and not meeting her eyes. “And I didn’t know you liked me,” he added softly.

“Wait, what? You didn’t know?”

“No. When?”

“What?”

“When did you like me?”

“Um, well, I had a crush on you in middle school. Then again junior year. I dunno, on and off I guess.”

“I was going to ask you to prom,” he admitted. Sansa couldn’t help but laugh.

“Why didn’t you?”

“I didn’t have a song,” he shrugged.

“What?”

“I heard Greyjoy was going to ask you by singing you a song. I couldn’t top that, so I didn’t.”

“You should’ve. I would’ve said yes, song or not. Theon just asked me ‘cause I told him to, so that I’d have a date.”

“Well, if I knew that I would’ve.”

“So what else would you have done, if you’d known?”

“That Greyjoy was asking you just as a friend?”

“That I liked you.”

“I would’ve asked you out. I would’ve kissed you at Homecoming senior year.”

“Can you imagine how different things could’ve turned out if we had actually told each other anything? If either of us actually had the courage to ask the other out?”

“Maybe we’d have come to the reunion together,” he said softly.

“Maybe we could still leave the reunion together,” she suggested, looking at him from under her lashes.

“Didn’t we already do that?” he chuckled.

“That’s not what I meant,” she said coyly.

“I… Really?”

“Yeah, really. I wanna find out what I’ve been missing out on since high school.”

Jon grinned at her, the way he had once, years ago.

“So… where’d you wanna go?” he asked once they’d paid the tab.

“Your place? I’m crashing at my parents’ while I’m in town.”

* * *

“So… this is it,” Jon said awkwardly as he led Sansa through he living room. He’d never brought a girl back to his place before—at least not one that was actually his. Just his dorm rooms.

“It’s nice.”

“Can I get you something to drink?”

“Whatever you’re having is fine.”

Jon headed for the kitchen, but turned to watch her walk around the living room, her fingers trailing over everything.

Sansa Stark was in his living room.

He couldn’t believe it.

“You know I used to sleep with my phone under my pillow in high school,” she said suddenly.

“Why?” he asked, crossing back toward her and handing her a glass.

“In case I got a late night text from you,” Sansa murmured, taking a sip.

“Gods, we were stupid, weren’t we?” he laughed.

“Good thing we grew up, huh?” she whispered, setting her glass down.

“Yeah, yeah, good thing,” he repeated just as quietly.

“Yeah…” And then Sansa was kissing him.

Jon froze before he was holding her in his arms and kissing her back, the way he should’ve so many times before.

“Took us long enough,” she giggled one they broke apart.

* * *

Sansa stretched before she rolled over and curled into Jon’s side, sliding her leg over his.

“Arya’s going to kill me,” he groaned, sliding his hand over his face.

“Why?” she laughed, sitting up on her elbow.

“I just told her today I didn’t have feelings for you.”

“Wait, Arya knew?” she screeched, sitting up and clutching the sheet to her chest. “Oh, no, wait. You told her _today_ you didn’t have feelings for me?”

“Yeah,” he sighed.

“Why?”

“I was trying to get out of going to the reunion.”

“Well, good thing you didn’t then, huh?” she laughed, laying her head on his chest. “I can’t believe we could’ve been doing this for the past five years.”

Jon laughed and kissed her hair.

“Better late than never, right?”

“Yeah, you’re right,” she giggled, flipping over and kissing him because she could. Finally.

**Author's Note:**

> This is what I did today. I hope you enjoyed it!


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